


On Purpose

by theonetryingtolive



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse Aftermath, Canon thrown out the window, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Heroes, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse not explicit, Protective Wade Wilson, be the change you want to see in ao3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29757150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonetryingtolive/pseuds/theonetryingtolive
Summary: You were shattered when you met Wade. He helped put the pieces back together.
Relationships: Deadpool/Reader, Wade Wilson/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Monsters

There were monsters in the shadows. There were monsters under the streetlights and monsters under the moonlight. Monsters, monsters everywhere. And that, really, was where your problems started. 

You walked back home sometime after midnight, your belly in knots as you listened carefully for every little noise around you. The city was not quiet, not even at night, but that didn’t mean some noises weren’t more dangerous than others. Years of walking back home scared, with your heart stuck in your throat, had conditioned you to listen carefully. It was only a matter of time before you weren’t careful enough, though. You knew it. The monsters in the shadows knew it, too.

It hadn’t occurred to you that the monster would be wearing the skin of someone you loved. It didn’t cross your mind, not even once. In retrospect it should have been obvious. And yet, it hadn’t been. One second the man you were going to marry was walking beside you and the next you had said the wrong thing and he was towering over you while you cradled your aching heart. 

It wasn’t meant to go like this. 

And now you were walking home on your own, ducking your head whenever possible, avoiding the dark alleys and staying as close to the streetlights as possible. You were dizzy, too. You felt as though you were going to throw up. You inhaled sharply and tried to steady yourself as you swayed. Just a few more blocks and you could crumble to the ground. With some inner strength you didn’t know you possessed, you stumbled through the night, up the flight of stairs of your building, through the front door and crumbled as you closed it behind yourself. You slid down to the floor, curled up and cried.

The cold air nipped at your nose as you wrapped the scarf tighter around your neck and hurried to cross the street. With the morning sun came the realization that you could not remain crumbled and broken forever. You’d stood, gone through the painstaking process of ridding yourself of the rags from the day before and finally felt safe enough to leave the safety of your studio apartment.

The safety of the sunshine was effervescent and once you’d drank the last of your lemonade and looked out at the city, shadows began to appear. You glanced at the clock, a pained cry stuck in your chest, begging for release. Instead, you triple checked the locks and slept beneath a mountain of blankets, not daring to move a muscle in fear of the monsters hiding in the dark. 

Desperation, sleep-deprivation, and a startling incident at the grocery store a whole month later had you scurrying as fast as you could through back alleyways and into the wolves’ den. You steeled yourself as the streets grew less and less familiar, as flowerpots disappeared from windowsills and beer cans began to litter the streets. You remained vigilant, stepping out of the way of big men and crossing the street when you saw groups of more than three together on a sidewalk. You crossed a busy intersection and pushed open a grimy bar door that had seen better days.

Inside it smelled of stale beer, sweat and quite possibly blood. You couldn’t quite be certain. The hairs on the back of your neck stood at attention and you took a deep breath, approaching the bar. The bartender gave you a smile, a beer and a little calling card without saying a word and for that you were thankful. You didn’t know how one could come to a place like this and make requests and you wouldn’t have known who to ask. There was nobody to ask.

A door slammed behind you and you jumped, though you tried to hide it. Your handwriting was terrible, you had smudged the paper already and you were going to start crying right then and there. But you couldn’t, you reminded yourself. It was no time for crying. 

A hand slammed down a card just like the one you were holding down onto the bar next to you and you willed yourself not to look, to stay calm. “Weasel, next time give me something interesting to do. Not that chasing scumbags hyped up on steroids isn’t good cardio but…”

The man was loud, and you couldn’t quite decide if he was angry or not, but it was making you anxious. You focused very, very intently on writing legibly and only realized someone was trying to get your attention when two fingers tapped the edge of your calling card. 

“I’ll take this one,” the stranger was saying, now pulling your card towards himself, tilting his head as he read it.

“I don’t think she was finished,” the bartender, Weasel, said, but the stranger wasn’t listening anymore.

“Come on, sugar,” the man said, already walking towards the door. Before you could form a coherent thought, your legs were carrying you towards him.


	2. Walk You Home

“Tim Evans,” the stranger said, reading your card. You startled and looked at him, eyes wide. He wasn’t looking at you, thankfully. “Sure, I can take care of him for you. What’d he do, cheat on you or something?”

You attempted to laugh, to break the tension before it snapped you in half. “Or something.”

“Done. I’m Wade, by the way. So, you gonna tell me your name?” With a smile that felt too forced you did, but he didn’t comment on it. “So, I assume you’ve never done this before, huh?”

Quickly, you shook your head. “No, never. This is my first time in this side of town, too.”

“Yeah, I can tell. I don’t recommend you coming around here on your own. I could tell you were spooked at the bar- hey, no judgment here, Weasel can be pretty scary when he wants to be. Tell you what, you tell me more about this asshole that cheated on you and I’ll take care of it. I’ll reach out to you, we can arrange payment once the job is done. Yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” you said, nodding. “That’s reasonable.”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Wade said, as though quoting someone. You waited to see what he’d say next. “So where does he work? What’s he do?”

You felt your throat close up and took a deep breath. “He’s...a detective. I- I couldn’t go to the police, that’s why I-”

“No, no, I get it,” Wade interrupted you. He raised his hands to tug his hoodie down. Funny, you hadn’t even noticed he was wearing one before. It suited him. “Don’t get why he’d hurt you, I mean, you seem nice.”

Now you did laugh, but there were tears at the corners of your eyes. “Thanks for saying that. I guess I just have bad luck.”

“I know a little about bad luck. Hey, it’s late, want me to walk you home? I can call you a cab but my friend told me he wasn’t working tonight and I don’t really trust other cab drivers.”

“Oh, uh…” Well, the man was getting paid to scare your ex away from you, wasn’t he? He wasn’t going to murder you, that would be bad business. “I’d appreciate it if you walked me back.”

Wade nodded a couple of times, clicked his tongue. “Sure thing, no problem. So, what do you do? Don’t gotta answer, I’m just asking to avoid awkward silence but I can work with awkward silence just fine.”

Your smile felt more genuine this time around. “Oh, I work at the library. I write stories in my free time, paint a little.”

“You’re probably the most talented person I’ve met!”

“You haven’t seen any of my work, though.”

“No, but talent has a way of glowing.” He was smiling, too, you realised. “But maybe one day I’ll read one of your stories, or hell, maybe you’ll end up having a big exhibition and I’ll visit. Who knows?”

“Yeah,” you said, your chest aching all of a sudden. In truth it had been almost a month since you’d done any of that. “Who knows.”

You saw your apartment building on the end of the street and started mentally preparing for your nightly rituals of checking the windows, the doors, the locks, of closing the blinds as best as possible and hiding from the outside. 

“This is me,” you said, nodding at the building. “Thank you, Wade.” 

Now that you stood in front of him you realised he was dressed in a red hoodie and black jeans. It suited him.

“Hey, no need to thank me until the job is done. Alright? I’ll contact you. Oh, what the hell?” He produced a pen out of seemingly thin air and scribbled down a number on a McDonald’s receipt. “Here’s my number. Call if you need me. Or don’t. You can do whatever you want.”

You smiled again. “Goodnight, Wade.”

“Yeah, goodnight.”


	3. See You At Five

Wade Wilson was not a man of half-measures. He did his homework and went back to her apartment building the next day. Whoever he had cheated with was either gone or had been a temporary fling. He had not been able to find any traces of anyone other than you, but that didn’t mean the job was done. 

He took his job seriously. He might not be the friendly neighbourhood hero but he was a man of his word and in his line of business that meant something. When he saw you open the building door and called your name, you jumped. Guilt gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog. 

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Sorry, it’s just me. Just me.”

Your eyes were wide as you looked at him but you slowly nodded and sighed. “I was distracted, I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

“Oh, I’m not done yet. I don’t want to rush the job, I came here to tell you what I didn’t find.”

“What you didn’t find?” You said, with some disbelief.

“Yes. I didn’t find any evidence of cheating. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, though.”

You attempted a smile. If that was what Wade had to think to be able to do his job, who were you to challenge that? You hadn’t even considered Tim the type to cheat but you had also never thought he’d- No. That line of thought didn’t lead anywhere useful. You pushed your anxiety down. Compartmentalize, compartmentalize. Fake it till you make it. “That’s alright, I didn’t expect you to be done in less than 24 hours.”

Wade smiled again. “I’m working on it, I promise. Are you off to work? I’m heading in the direction of the library, too.”

You nodded and started to walk with him by your side. It was...freeing. For the first time in a long time you didn’t feel panicked as you walked to work. You could get used to that feeling. It wouldn’t last, though. You touched one of your eyelashes with a finger to wipe away a tear. “Do you have lots of things to do today?” What a stupid question, you chastised yourself.

Wade bobbed his head in a sort of nod. “I’m finishing off two jobs by the docks today. Then I’m going to do laundry. Laundry day is a good day to work the docks.”

Well, you couldn’t fault that logic. Mainly because you didn’t understand it. The library loomed closer and Wade walked you up to the entrance. “This is me,” you said, lifting a hand to your neck to toy with your work lanyard. 

Wade’s eyes zeroed in on your wrist, on the bruises half-hidden by your long-sleeved shirt. “I…”

“I should go in,” you said, quickly, cutting him off. “Thanks for the update. I can see you’re working hard for that five star review.” 

In any other circumstance he would have laughed at the joke. “Are you-”

“I’ll see you later?” You cut him off. “Maybe, I mean, if you’re not busy.”

Wade’s expression had changed but you weren’t looking at him, you were too busy fidgeting with the employee ID. “I could come by today again, after your work is done.”

“Oh,” you sounded shocked. “You don’t need to, I can walk home on my own.”

“Think of it as insurance,” Wade said, speaking too fast, words tumbling from his mouth before he could process them entirely. “I gotta make sure you get home safe if I want to get paid.”

Your smile fell but you tried to hide it, feigning interest on the library’s entrance. “I suppose…”

“See you at five, then?”

“Yeah,” you said as you started to walk towards the library’s entrance. “See you at five.”


	4. Strawberries

Wade smiled when he saw you coming out of the library. He smiled broadly at you and held out a takeaway cup from a local coffeeshop. 

“Jitter juice,” Wade said, gesturing to the cup. 

You smiled and took the cup. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.”

“I know,” Wade said, still smiling. “Ready to go home?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, nodding. As you started to walk, you sipped and tilted your head at the taste. “Is this caramel?”

“Caramel and coffee is the ultimate jitter juice combination,” he said, shrugging.

You smiled, happy with the way your hands warmed up as you held the cup. “It’s really good.”

“Happy to please,” he said. “So, listen, I was thinking about Evans.”

You flinched at the name, having almost forgotten about him. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Wade was quiet for a while, trying to work out how to phrase what he was thinking. 

“Can we make a quick stop?” You asked, nodding towards a fruit stall.

“Not a problem,” he said, perhaps a tad too quickly.

“They have fantastic strawberries here,” you said, smiling at him as you looked over the fruit. “I’ve perfected my strawberry cake recipe, too. I try to make it with fresh fruit rather than frozen.”

There was a warmth pooling in Wade’s stomach, making him feel as though he were full of caramel, warm and pliable. “You like to bake? I have no idea how, but I like to eat cake.”

“Really?” You asked as you picked fruit, your face positively glowing. “Well, you should try my cake. I’m always in need of someone to share my desserts with.”

“I’m your man,” he replied, winking at you playfully. He stopped you before you paid for the strawberries. “I got it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to. Please.”

You felt your cheeks burn as you nodded. “Thank you.”

Wade handed the strawberries to you. “It’s not a problem. And really, I should be the one thanking you, you’re the one making the cake, after all.”

“I see how it is, now!” You laughed and poked his arm. “You just want to get a sugar high.”

Wade shrugged, walking a little closer to you. “Can’t blame a man for that, now, can you?”

“I suppose not,” you said. 

And, really, Wade would have been able to forget all about the job if the collar of your shirt hadn’t shifted just enough for him to see the bruises littering your collarbone. It was a sobering sight.


	5. Empty Tank

You saw him when you came out of the building to throw away the trash. He was walking in your direction, still wearing that same red hoodie. You smiled and waved and he jogged up to you.

“Hey,” you said. “I didn’t expect to see you here, it’s Saturday.”

“Yeah, I know. I had a long day of doing nothing planned but I figured this was a better use of my time.”

You laughed, a happy, airy laugh that threatened to bring Wade to his knees in supplication. “Well, do you want to come in?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you said, echoing his words from before. “I want to.”

He nodded and followed after you as you climbed the steps to the entrance. The lift carried you to the fifth floor and once there you led him to the far right. Your door was unassuming, a plain brown colour, with a nail protruding from it. He saw a string attached to it.

“Oh, that,” you said when Wade reached out to touch the nail. “I used to have a flower wreath there. He didn’t like it.”

By then Wade knew what that meant and for a few seconds he felt anger rise to the surface. What sort of asshole hated beauty so much they—

“Ta-da,” you said, interrupting his train of thought as you opened the door. “Make yourself at home.”

He saw you leave your shoes at a small rack by the door and did the same. He looked around as he went in. The apartment was...small and bare. There was a couch, a TV, a small table in front of the couch, no kitchen table though, and here and there he saw empty ceramic pots. Perhaps the most puzzling thing was the empty fish tank at the back of the room, tucked against a corner. He frowned as he went to look at it. Inside it were implements which he assumed were used for the upkeep of the tank. As he looked he realised why the apartment felt so...empty. It was as though someone had taken all the life inside it and extinguished it. Even the couch was vacant of pillows or blankets. He didn’t want to imagine the state of the other rooms. 

“Do you want some tea?” You asked from the kitchen. A kitchen which was just as bare and devoid of anything that would signal you lived there. 

Wade attempted a smile. “Sounds perfect.”

You brewed two cups and went to the window, checked that it was tightly closed, then to the door, to check the various locks were in place. Wade didn’t say anything but he followed your fingers as you checked all six locks were working. 

All around him there were answers to questions he hadn’t had the balls to ask.

“So, what’s with the...tank?” Wade said, trying to sound as though he hadn’t seen you check all those locks. Was this guy dangerous? He knew damn well he shouldn’t be getting emotionally involved in your business, it was wrong. Not to mention stupid. Not to mention you would find it creepy. 

“Oh.” You looked sadly at the empty tank. “Yeah, I used to have an established tank. Guppies, tetras, all sorts… It was heavily planted, too. I have always loved fish and it was fantastic to come home and see them swimming around. They’d get excited for feeding time. I used to have shrimp, too. They all came over to the feeding section. It was nice. I had it for almost two years.”

“It sounds like you really cared for it. Did it crack or something?”

“Oh…” You shook your head, sipping from your mug.”No, no. I just...one day I came home and it was empty.”

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“How about a slice of pie?” You said, cutting him off. You were already standing and on your way to the kitchen. Nobody could cry eating pie. Not even you.


End file.
